Late Bloomer
by BioShinx
Summary: So, you can't graduate from college. Why? Because your last credit requires you to be a pokemon trainer, a dream you buried long ago. Unless you get out there and train some fluffy whatsitsname, you're not getting your degree. However, you're a broke-ass student with barely any pokedollars for balls and it doesn't help that all these elitist ten-year olds just piss you off.
1. Chapter 1

You huffed.

You sprawled out, mentally crumpled, on your bed and shielding your eyes from the incoming rays seeping through the window shades. You would've relished in it before, but it only amplified your growing headache.

Glancing over at the rejection letter unfolded and sitting atop you desk, you groaned. You spent sixteen tiring years in the education system only to end up outright dismissed in the end. You read it twice over before tossing it and watching it flutter down to your desk.

_We're sorry to inform you that we have rejected your application to graduate this spring semester. In order to graduate with a B.S. in Biology and concentration Evolutionary Biology at Celadon University, you will need substantial field credits and competence as a pokémon trainer. Your next window to graduate will be spring, next year. Please take this time to reassess your career choices._

Reassess your career choices? Like that wasn't a sucker punch to the face.

Four years of grueling studying, dissecting (yes, pokémon), and caffeinated all-nighters got you absolutely no where. You were a B student, but you spent years mingling with professors and spending time outside of class working to secure internships at top laboratories. But three credits? A measly three credits was preventing you from graduating for another year. You went from being, possibly, the next Professor Oak or Bill to a college drop-out. Sheeeee-it.

It was just rubbing salt in your wound when those three credits happened to be pokémon training. The one aspect of life you always wanted to experience as a kid was now the bane of your existence. It was hindering you.

Where were you going to go? Home?

Your parents hated the idea of pokémon trainer as a career, but even more appalled by the idea of a college drop-out. You didn't want to return, but eventually you would have to. The lease for your apartment ended in three weeks and you couldn't pay rent without the financial aid. The money stopped flowing in when you stopped going to school.

What could you say to them?

_You know those two things you hate? Well, I'm dropping out of college to become a pokémon trainer. You can forget about my graduation in May 'cause it ain't happening!_

No. That would probably get you a busted lip. Probably from mom. She tended to sway towards the dramatic side. You would have to ease the information in.

_Listen...mom and dad. The university won't allow me to graduate unless I get my final three credits training pokemon. Do you mind if I move back home?_

NO. Just, no. You could already imagine the tears of disappointment stinging the corner of your mother's eyes as she sobbed into your dad's shoulder. He would give you a disapproving glare from over the crown of her head as he consoled her.

There was an unspoken rule in the house to never make mom cry.

However, you weren't entirely repulsed by the idea of being a pokémon trainer, just annoyed by it. If you were ten, it would be different. So different...

You remember being ten years old and spectating pokémon stadium matches on television. The hours spent in front of that screen wasn't to discover who became the victor; you had an addiction watching the relationships between trainer and pokémon. It seemed...each pokemon was fiercely loyal to their trainer even going beyond their limits to win matches and...you wanted that.

Your parents completely halted any aspiration you had of training, but not without reason. The idea of sending their ten-year old into the wilderness never appealed to them. Around that time, Team Rocket was also spreading their influence from Kanto to Johto. The gang had long disbanded in Kanto, but still existed in Johto, your home. So, it was understandable why they didn't want to send their child into a region where pokémon and children alike, on occasion, disappeared.

You tried to appeal to them. It was an age-old argument and one every child lost. You asked why every other child except yourself had the privilege to go. Their answer of course, was simple.

_We want something better for you. Something stable._

Even your best friend from grade school was a trainer. You never saw her again after she left your hometown. Apparently, her family moved to a different region when she got engaged to a pokémon breeder.

Also, there was your father. He could be such a fucking hard-ass.

_Why do you want to waste your life bumming it with a bunch of green runts? Most of them don't make it past the first gym and neither will you. And, if they do...they get recruited by one of these gangs._

_Choose a **real** career. Your mother and I didn't put money on this table by training pokémon. We worked. Your mother got a college degree and I joined the military. Those are your two choices._

You wish he wasn't so black and white, but the military life did that for your father. There was no room for gray in his household. You couldn't be a pokémon trainer AND successful. It was one, or the other.

You peered over at a few boxes you fished out from your closet to move-out. You wanted to prolong your move-out as long as possible, but there was no point. Your parents would eventually find out. Your ass would eventually be grass. There was also no way you were going to mope around in your apartment for three weeks: alone, in your sweatpants, and smelly. You set to work on collecting all your possessions from the apartment and carrying them to the truck.

You resigned yourself to your inevitable fate. You would be on that ferry back to Johto tonight.

* * *

Author's note:

Hey guys. Is it what you expected? Not what you expected? Did shit get too real or not real enough?

2nd person. I know, scary and weird. You're reading it as if it's you, but that's the point, right? I know it's not popular, but I enjoy writing in 2nd story and giving the reader the reins. Magic stuff happens and fireworks go off somewhere. People start relating and ish, tears shed, and yadda yadda-kaput.

Anyways, drop me a review. Or a smiley face.


	2. Chapter 2

The two-hour drive to Vermillion City was rough, but thankfully short. You were fifteen minutes away from the city entrance. You hissed as the truck jumped suddenly. You saw the "Dugtrio Crossing" sign, but didn't heed it. You figured the little nubs could handle themselves. The truck jumped again and swiftly came down with a hard 'thunk.'

That wasn't good.

You pumped the brakes to a stop and carefully went over a small hill. You heard the thunk again, this time softer and groaned. Dugtrio fucked your shocks. Typical.

You slowed to a stop and parked your truck in the middle of the road. You weren't worried about holding up traffic. It was two in the morning and you hadn't seen another car for hours. Before hopping out the driver's seat you pushed the hazard warning signal and made your way around the front. You glanced at the undercarriage on the left side and noticed both spring and post bent out of shape.

"What the…"

You knew Dugtrio could be tough pokémon but this was extreme. You whined for your broken shocks.

"Rip, truck." You pulled out a carton of cigs from your pocket and leaned against the car door. You sighed as you exhaled your first puff.

You suppose you could call a taxi and leave your truck at an auto shop here in Kanto, but you had too much stuff that you couldn't leave including all of your electronics. You had a system that you wrote all your papers on and you just weren't going to hand it over to some thief. The only option was to drive it to Johto and hope your truck didn't fall apart by then. You wished you could stay with the truck while it was getting fixed, but you just didn't have the money for a hotel.

"Uck...uck." You soared off the car door and looked around. Dugtrio didn't make that noise. It was a hoarse sounding whisper coming from your shocks. You looked underneath, but didn't find anything visible. Tentatively, you felt around the shocks moving your hand upwards towards the beginning of the springs.

Flesh met flesh and limbs with gooey consistency tightly wrapped around your forearm. You let out an inhuman shriek and attempted to yank your arm away with no luck. You tried again, but you were glued to the truck and the gooey tendrils yanked back. You realized you looked idiotic with your arm stuck in the undercarriage and your face slammed against the truck.

You pulled again stretching the gooey tendrils enough to separate your face from the truck and place your feet against the wheel as leverage. This time, the limbs followed your body and you could see yellow limbs attached to your arm before you heard a sound like metal grinding against something rough. You saw a flurry of limbs fly toward you and a sharp pain on your brow before falling back into the dirt and blacking out.

You cringed as you felt a throbbing pain on your forehead and sharp sunlight on your eyelids. Your hand twitched as the foggy haze of being KO'd faded away. You inhaled and felt weight on your chest preventing you from filling your lungs completely. You opened your eyes and blinked away the teary goo that blurred your vision and finally whatever was on your chest came into focus.

Turtle…fungus?

"Shuckle-uckle!" Oh, a pokémon. You facepalmed and drew your hand back quickly. Your palm was slick with blood from your forehead. At least you knew why your eyes were so gooey.

"You cracked my skull you…you…shroom!" The turtle-thing blinked at you expectantly before retreating back into its shell. It popped back out with a blue substance on the pads of its limb and jammed it into your mouth.

You reeled before sputtering it everywhere, "Gaaaaaaaaaaaaarh!"

You coughed and fumed as you felt the substance slide down your throat, but your eyes widened. Whatever this was tasted like cherry soda…like black-cherry soda. Well, it didn't taste like poison, so you could calm down.

"Shuck-uck-kle." The creature said merrily from your lap. It had rolled down when you had jumped up and coughed.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you're a Shuckle." You wiped your mouth clean of the blue substance and resisted the urge to lick your fingers afterwards.

"Shuckle-uckle!" It replied.

"Ask before cramming stuff in someone's mouth."

Somewhere, someone said, 'That's what she said.' You mused.

You glanced around and noticed the sun just cleared the treetops, so it was sunrise. That meant it was past six…and you missed the ferry.

"Gahdamnit." You lightly shoved the shuckle off your lap before standing and brushing the dirt off your pants. You didn't bother with all of it. The morning dew had made the dirt wet and it clung to your back. Your truck still had the hazards blinking.

You heard an engine hum in the distance and picked the shuckle off the road and set it on the rails of your truck bed.

"Can't have you bending someone else's shocks now, can we?"

You looked over the contents in your truck and approved your decision of choosing plastic containers over cardboard. Everything was covered in a thin layer of droplets. Your laundry was safe for now.

The hum of an engine grew louder and you watched as Officer Jenny pulled up on a motorbike.

"Morning, Officer." You waved to her.

"Don't move! Put your hands above your head and turn around slowly!" She drew a gun from its holster and pointed it at you after agilely jumping over the handle bars of her bike.

"Wait, seriously?" You hesitantly raised your hands over your head.

"Are you the trainer that's terrorizing new trainers?" Jenny trained her gun at you and pointed at your face. She closed the distance between you two and lifted your shirt and glanced around your belt. You assumed she wanted to take away any pokémon if you had any.

"You're asking if I'm a terrorist? Um, NO. I'm not even a trainer!" You raised your voice, but you couldn't help it.

She found your wallet in your pocket and flipped the contents open.

"Huh, I guess you're not a trainer. There's an APB out on a trainer with a shuckle." She thumbed your ID card thoughtfully. You didn't have a trainer ID or an area for badges. All you had was a civilian ID.

You stepped away from her gun and snatched your wallet back.

"No, I'm not." You shoved your tiny wallet back into your pocket.

"Then, riddle me this. Why do you have a shuckle?" She pointed at the shell and limbs grasping to your truck bed.

"I found him this morning stuck under my truck. Which reminds me…do you know where I can find a mechanic?" You lifted the shell off your bed but the limbs tightly held on to the edge.

"You can't carry around a pokémon without a permit." Jenny eyed you nervously.

"I don't mean to give you lip, but that's not my fucking problem since I'm not a pokémon trainer." She seemed taken aback, before turning away and hopping on her bike.

"Good luck with your truck!" She said cheerily, but she was glaring evilly at you.

As she rode away you flipped her the bird. "Useless bitch. Can't believe she just pointed a gun at me…"

"Shuck-uckle." The yellow limbs reached toward you and dislodged from the truck and hooked itself to your upper arm.

"Yeah, I wouldn't let go of the truck either with that kind of nut around. What's this?"

Shuckle's outer shell was slightly cracked with the broken edges hanging off.

"Damn. I must have cracked it with my truck." You fingered the cracked edge cautiously. The shuckle on your arm didn't react so you assumed that it was just a flesh wound.

"Since we're both broken, and my trucks broken…I might as well drive to Vermillion city. Hopefully, there's an auto-shop and the poke-center is open."

"Uckle…"

With shuckle attached, you hopped back into your truck and drove slowly and carefully to Vermillion.

* * *

Sorry about writing one chapter and leaving you hanging. That was rude of me. Anyways, here's some progress. Since the chapters are short I'll update twice a week unless I have school. Have a effing awesome lovely summer people. And if you're working...well, sucks for you. I'm not. And, it's pretty great.


	3. Chapter 3

You pulled up to the pokémon center and wasn't surprised to see trainers loitering the area. Poké-centers offered housing to trainers that temporarily stayed in the city for gym battles, so it wasn't uncommon to see a small army of trainers heading out of the centers in the early hours. The truck creaked as you shut off the engine and you slammed the door shut when you hopped out the driver's side.

As you strode to the red doors of the entrance, some trainers made a path for you and others sniggered as you passed them. You remembered you looked like a haggard mess with blood caked to your forehead, dirt clinging to your back, and Shuckle wrapped tightly on your arm.

"Look at that. I bet that Shuckle won't last long in the circuit with a trainer like that."

You heard a young mocking voice from behind you, but you kept on walking. If you were thirteen years younger you would've rocked that kid's face, but now you were older and just didn't mind. You finally reached the door and heard a 'ding' as the automatic doors slid open.

"Hey! I was talking about you. You don't care?"

You glanced behind you at a kid with azure hair arranged in a messy array of spikes. He dressed normally, but he fit the 'trainer' type. His fingerless gloves and two-toned jacket were adorned with the emblem of the circuit and his brand new sneaks were free of any dirt indicating his parents had provided his clothes. His belt was heavy with pokéballs.

"No, not really. You weren't talking to me, so your opinion of me isn't my business."

You almost stepped into the poké-center when raucous laughter broke out behind you. You could feel the cool sensation of air conditioning just beyond the doors, but you were curious. What was so damn funny?

You threw a disbelieving look over your shoulder. The youngster doubled over in laughter and some of the trainers had joined, tossing you mixed looks of disapproval and smugness. The youngster stood upright once more and pointed at Shuckle.

"At least give that thing a fighting chance. Why don't you give him to me?"

"Shuck…" It said disapprovingly and retracted its head within its shell.

"No." You replied in a monotonous tone. You weren't going to give some ten-year old git the satisfaction of bothering you. You had a gun in your face this morning, so petty comments seemed insignificant.

You held back a snicker as his face abruptly transitioned to annoyance and made a beeline towards a nurse behind a wide marble counter. She did a double take and her brows raised to her hairline.

"Oh, gracious!" She moved around the counter almost slamming her hip against a corner in the process and hastily stepped towards you. You felt her cool hands pressed against your face and turning it to and fro. You gawked as she led you behind the counter by your chin to a room with an "Urgent Care" sign hanging above it.

The room was stark white with a salmon colored stripe decorating the walls and a cushiony patient's chair in the middle of the room. Numerous headlamps dotted the ceiling of the room and you could discern this room was used for surgery. Against a wall was a metal, glass cabinet filled with jars of cotton balls, swabs, needles, and serrated surgical tools.

The nurse unceremoniously pushed you down on the chair and reached towards the metal cabinet grabbing a few supplies. You let out a breath of relief when the serrated blade wasn't one of them.

"How bad is it?" You asked. You never actually looked in the mirror and you felt rather than saw the caked blood on your forehead and knew there was enough to ward caution. Also, the horrified looks of trainers outside the poké-centers told you as much. Then, there was the warped glimpse of your reflection on the glass doors.

"Have you seen yourself? You look like you got into a fight with an axe-wielding psycho. The psycho obviously won."

She was pressing a cotton ball to your forehead and it was cool with antiseptic. You cringed at the slight sting as it entered what you assumed was a crack on your forehead. She dipped another cotton ball into a brown substance and applied it around your wound and you could slowly feel the pain of the crack ebb away as the smell of iodine antiseptic then gel anesthesia hit your nostrils.

She turned her back towards you and was setting up a tray atop a tablelike extension of the patient's chair. You eyed a metal bowl with what smelled like chemicals and you heard the slight clink of metal tools.

"We'll wait another five minutes and we'll start."

"Start? Start what?" You crinkled your brow and twitched in pain.

"Wait, for the anesthesia to be fully effective. You're going to need stitches." She was holding a curved needle in her hand.

You didn't have a particular fear of needles but this thing looked gnarly. The diameter was larger than the needles you received your influenza shots from.

"That's going in my forehead?" You watched with wary eyes as she cleaned the needle.

"Nope! That's just a prank I play on the first timers. This is what's going in your forehead. It leaves neat scars." She pointed to a much slimmer needle suture and artfully picked it up with a needle holder.

"You awful woman…."

"Yeah, I know. You can't blame me though. I stand behind a counter all day and recite, 'Welcome to our Pokémon Center! We heal your Pokémon back to perfect health!'" She said sardonically, "I'm this close to an induced state of psychosis."

You chuckled, "What's your name?"

"Wow, you're asking? Most people assume it's Joy and I hate it. My name is Allegra." She smirked at you as she pulled a nylon thread through the suture.

"Doesn't that mean 'joy.' Or at least happy?" You spoke without thinking.

"Did you forget whose holding the needle so quickly?" She retorted.

You threw your hands up in defense. "Alright. I get it, naughty nurse."

She glared at you.

"Okay! I'll stop! No, need for unspoken threats. I've learned my lesson." You sighed and rolled your shoulders back. You felt the hefty weight of the tiny fungi attached to your arm. You had forgotten it was there. You weren't used to another presence being attached to you despite the weight on your arm notifying you it was there.

"So, what's with the Shuckle?" Allegra was smiling at the shell attached to your arm.

"That's actually why I'm here. He has a cracked shell." You pointed to the small surface fissure.

"And not for the gash on your head? You're an odd one." She poked your forehead. "Can you feel that?"

"The gash was my second priority. And, no. I can't feel a thing." You assumed she was prodding your forehead softly, but you couldn't discern.

"Good, we can start. I suggest you close your eyes or look away. People tend to twitch and move when they see the needle go in even if they don't feel it." She pointed to the salmon-colored stripe on the wall.

"Shuck-uckle." You felt it nuzzle your arm after it crooned softly on your shoulder.

You looked down into the shiny black beady eyes and gripped the edge of the patient chair. You felt the dull throb of the needle and tried not to flinch. Your grasp on the chair tightened as the pressure built up on your forehead and you willed yourself into rigidity.

_Just focus on those beady little eyes._

Shuckle seemed immobile as he trained his eyes on you. If you didn't know better you would've guessed he was challenging you, but there was no threat in his stance. He just stayed and it was comforting to you.

"And, I'm done!" Your head snapped back and you looked at Allegra's grinning face.

"What are you smiling about?" You reached up to touch your stitches, but she hastily slapped your hand away.

"You and your Shuckle. That was the sweetest and most unnerving thing I've ever seen. Kinda creepy, actually." She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her hip.

"It's actually not mine. I found it on the road this morning." You raised a brow as the fungi rested its head on your shoulder.

"You should keep it. It seems to have imprinted on you." She softly pat the shell and a dislodged piece of shell crumbled and fell to the ground.

"Can you do anything about that?" You inquired. The crack looked terrible, but didn't seem to hinder Shuckle.

"We can fill the crack with temperature resistant enamel. We use it on the Starmies." She cleaned and set the surgical tools aside before pointing to the door.

"Just set Shuckle on the counter and I'll be right out." She threw a nod over her shoulder and you slid off the patient chair.

Once the door closed behind you, you briefly shut your eyes. You just needed to clear your head, even for a moment. You had a hell of a morning.

"Shuck." Your eyes blinked open and you glanced down at Shuckle.

"You know, all this was because of you…" You peered at it accusatorily.

"Shuck-uckle…" It lowered its head guiltily and you huffed out a breath of air.

"At least, you know."

You pried the Shuckle from your shoulder and placed him on the marble counter. It wiggled its limbs towards you, but you shook your head.

"You heard the lady. Stay on the counter." The limbs retracted into the shell so you were left staring into beady eyes.

Surprisingly, obedient. You hadn't expected that.

You considered what Allegra said…about keeping Shuckle. If you were going to graduate, you would need to start somewhere. Could you do this?

You were a student, not a trainer. Of course you knew the basics, but you had to admit…even your knowledge of the fundamentals was limited. This would take time. At least, graduation required you to be a trainer, not to be good at it. However, your parents would be an obstacle. They would be less than thrilled to hear about your transitional crisis, but you needed to finish school. Nothing would give you more pleasure than to just be done with it all. You resigned yourself to your inevitable misfortune. You'd try it.

Also, if you kept Shuckle, it would save you the trouble of purchasing a starter. Most people bought their first pokémon for a couple thousand dollars and if one was lucky they could inherit the family pokémon. At least, this way, you had your first pokémon out of the way. Then, there was the trainer card and pokéballs. Didn't pokémon travel in their balls?

You groaned. Your wallet was tight enough as it was. You couldn't afford to drop several hundred pokédollars on balls only to fail at capture. If the pokéball doesn't catch, it became ineffective, right?

At least health care was free for pokémon and trainers, so that was out of the way. And housing would be provided by the poké-centers. But outside of the cities, you would be shit out of luck. You rarely camped outside nor did you have any gear or food to carry with you.

Your truck! If you got the old girl fixed you could camp inside her, but if she broke down in the middle of nowhere you would be screwed. Nevermind.

You still had to get her fixed, regardless.

You heard a door shut behind you and Allegra exited with a container of blue goo and what looked like a buffer.

"Let's get this little guy back in top shape!"


	4. Chapter 4

You stacked the last box of your belongings in a supply room beside a shelf full of packaged toilet paper. Allegra agreed to let you temporarily stash your stuff there while you got your truck fixed. Not without some kind of payment, of course. In return, you made the beds and dusted the rooms that made up the temporary housing. Outside the supply closet, you heard the whirr of the buffer working away on the recently added enamel filler on your Shuckle.

Your Shuckle?

The idea was foreign to you and unofficial until you registered as a trainer and received your ID. A sense of giddiness filled the pit of your stomach and you felt like the ten-year old you watching stadium matches. You were going to train pokémon, truly.

Despite the allure of moping around in your pajamas at your parent's house, you didn't want to reassess your career choices. You grumbled under your breath as you recalled the words in the letter.

So, you were going to graduate, whatever it took. Maybe this trainer thing wouldn't be so terrible.

You were pushing the boxes against the wall when you heard muffled raised voices and the sound of the mechanical buffer stop. You could hear the voices clearly now that they weren't being drowned out by incessant noise.

"Hey, where are you taking him?! He doesn't belong to you!" That was Allegra.

"According to you, he doesn't belong to anyone." That voice belonged to that snotty ten-year old.

You growled under your breath as you deduced what was happening outside the supply closet and exited. The door handle slammed against the wall as you threw the door wide-open to the closet. Now, you stood halfway between the med-counter and the entrance into the center, cutting off the kid's pathway as he made his way to the exit with Shuckle tucked underneath his forearm.

"Seriously? I hoped I was mistaken, but you're really stealing Shuckle." You planted yourself between him and the door.

"You can't steal something that doesn't belong to anyone in the first place."

The youngster reached under his belt for a ball and released a pokémon. An Umbreon broke out half-running towards you, but faltered. It observed you apprehensively before looking back at its trainer. You weren't a trainer, but you could tell this was the first time Umbreon was released on a human.

"That Shuckle belongs to _me_. Legally, it doesn't. I know that. " You could feel the muscles in your eye twitch and the stitches on your forehead pull in response.

"He's not registered and you're not a trainer. I'll take him off your hands." The little bastard grinned. "Fang, use confuse ray."

Your breath hitched in your throat as Fang's eyes started to glow and a light shot out in your direction. You heard of trainers that were accidentally hit with a confuse ray during battles sent to the hospital with no memory of the past few days. That couldn't happen to you, not now. You just decided to figure your life out this morning. A few days lost and you would be back at the beginning and fumbling for some sense of direction.

The light made contact, but dissipated around a blue barrier. The barrier appeared for a second and quickly disappeared after impact.

"Hell yeah!" You heard Allegra shouting from behind the trainer.

"What…a safeguard?" You comprehended disbelievingly.

Where had that come from? You looked at the Shuckle tucked underneath the trainers arm and watched as it came to life. The limbs shot from their sockets and waved wildly against the trainer's side slapping ribs and forearm as it did so. It effectively removed itself from the trainer and slowly dragged itself to your side.

"Did you put a safeguard on me before all of this?" You asked the Shuckle and it returned your gaze with a purposeful one.

"That's a 'yes.' You sure you want to stick with me? You know I'm not a proper trainer."

Shuckle's gaze remained, unwavering and stony.

"That's another 'yes.' Shuckle's not going anywhere."

You turned back to the trainer and immediately wished you hadn't. He was still sporting an arrogant expression and it was starting to piss you off.

"Oh, I think I can change your mind. We can battle for it. And, you seem low on cash." He pointed to your attire with disdain.

You looked down at your simple tee and trousers. If you weren't covered in dirt you thought you looked rather dashing.

"Because, I'm not wearing clothes mommy bought me?" You guessed.

"I-I bought these clothes myself! From money I won from battles, but you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" He seemed flustered and smoothed out his shirt.

"I would've never guessed it from a ten-year old. It looks like your mom dresses you." Truly, his outfit looked juvenile, even for a ten-year old.

"I'm fifteen, not ten!" He sputtered.

Your eyes widened as you reanalyzed the youngster standing in front of you. He was a foot shorter than the average fifteen year old and his voice was still an octave too high.

"Oh, god. That…that sucks!" You chortled.

"Are you going to battle or not?" The teen sneered.

"Clearly not. Look, I don't know you or trust you and I'm not going to hand over any pokémon, let alone my Shuckle." You dismissed him with a shooing gesture and Shuckle moved his head from side to side gleefully. You wondered if he was silently laughing.

"Why not? He would be better off with me and it's obvious you have no idea what you're doing. C'mon I'll give you half my money even if you don't win." He grinned.

Half his money?

Why would he hand over half even if you didn't win? Wait…wait. Even going so far as to steal your Shuckle from a pokémon center and unleashing a pokémon on you. Sure, it was non-lethal force, but it was illegal to use pokémon against humans unless it was in self-defense. So, he was acting on desperation.

"Why can't you let it go…Why do you care?" You steeled your eyes. It dawned on you how dangerous the situation actually was. Setting a pokémon on a person was a serious offense, even without bloodshed.

"I'm the League Champion, a professional. And you're some…_nobody_."

You were beginning to understand his psyche. And you realized all those trainers weren't gathered around that morning because they were exiting the center. They were following him and hovering around him like flies. He was an egotistical, entitled prick.

"And…that's relevant because…" You waved your hand in a circular motion, urging him to get to the point.

"It's relevant because you don't deserve that pokémon. It's unheard of some amateur having a shiny as a starter!" He screamed at you and his young voice cracked.

You looked down at Shuckle and incredulously, you laughed. How did you miss that? One day it would be your job to know these things! You looked down at the periwinkle shell with a brand new appreciation.

"Shuckle-uckle!" The fungi beamed with pride. Even he knew he was different.

From behind you, the door 'dinged' and you could hear footsteps pounding on the tiled floor. The youngster released an Espeon.

"Luna, use teleport." And in a blink, the azure-haired teen was gone.

"The hell is going on, Allegra?" You looked behind you and Lt. Surge was jogging into the center and stopped in front of the nurse.

"That trainer you just saw was attacking my patient. I would've called Jenny, but I recognized his face immediately and knew you could handle the situation better."

"You did the right thing. You're okay?" He put a hand on her shoulder and she nodded in reply.

"Apparently, Kamon wanted to steal that Shuckle." She strode towards Shuckle and pat him on the head softly. Lt. Surge trailed behind her and extended his hand out to you.

"I'm Surge, the gym leader, here."

You shook it, but warily. Lt. Surge was well-known for being a gym leader and a retired member of Team Rocket.

"I know." You didn't know what to expect from him.

"Aren't you Taylor's kid?" Lt. Surge seemed perturbed as he looked at you.

At the mention of your father's name, you were caught off guard.

"Yeah, actually…"

"He was a great soldier and my CO when I was a private, but it makes me wonder why you're out here. He told me he wouldn't allow his kid to have a pokémon, at least, not after he lost his Houndoom." He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Dad, had a Houndoom?" That explained a lot about your father. Mainly, it clarified his adverse idea of pokémon as pets. In the military, pokémon were partners and raised to a higher status than the average trainer's pokémon. It would dishonor their memories to own such a pokémon after a war-dog.

"He did. He lost it in the war, though. A real tragedy." The lieutenant shook his head, "Sorry, I didn't mean to unload that kind of intel on you."

"No, it's okay. I just wasn't aware." You became silent afterwards. You needed to ask your dad about that later.

"Small world, huh? Your dad was my boyfriend's CO." Allegra spoke from beside Surge.

"Wait…seriously?" You looked at the petite dark-haired woman standing beside the bulky, tall lieutenant.

"What do you mean 'seriously,' huh?" Lt. Surge grumbled.

You coughed, "Nothing. Anyways, so that kid…Kamon? He's a legitimate League Champion?"

"Just because you're a petty thief doesn't mean you can't be a Champion or a gym leader. I know that better than anyone." Surge smirked and you felt a shiver go up your spine.

"Fantastic." You replied sarcastically. "Is anyone going to do anything about him?"

"Most likely, no. The League runs like a bureaucracy, unfortunately. They aren't moved to action until something on a serious scale happens. Or until it's too late." Surge answered honestly.

You sighed, but you heard the truth in his words. Team Rocket ran amuck because no one did anything about the thefts for so long, at least not until it affected someone aiming for the championship.

"You know, if you want something done about it. I suggest you do it yourself. Bring it to the League's attention. Better yet, become the new champion. Champions have higher authority over trainers and you need to be on that kid's level to stop him."

The Champion? You thought about the incredible journey it would take to reach the pokémon league and the changes you would need to make to get there. You imagined the many battles you needed to win before you reached the next gym and the trail of defeated trainers you would leave behind. And finally, you would reach the reputable doors of the pokémon league and face the grueling trials of the elite four, then…Kamon. You would thrash his ass and become the pokémon League Champion.

"Fuck that."

You just wanted to graduate.


End file.
